Dear male cyclists, lose the attitude

I’m pretty sure I’m not a Mawil (middle-aged woman in Lycra), a term coined in a new report into cycling as the female counterpart to the much more common Mamil (middle-aged man in Lycra). But at 42 (is that middle-aged?), with two kids under my belt, I may be inadvertently ticking all the Mawil boxes.

I freakin’ love squeezing into my Lycra and heading off in the early hours on my road bike. Actually, any time of day will do, but I particularly love creaking out of my flat, cleats clicking down the stairs, carbon road bike in hand (it lives in my lounge room), just as my neighbour is coming up them.

The women I ride with are 90 per cent awesome: the men, maybe 20 per cent.

I turn Strava on, clip in, hit the bike path and feel as light as the coming dawn. It’s my freedom machine, for sure. I often head off on a solo 30-kilometre loop of the city, speeding along bike paths to Southbank where I dodge the sad and sorry. I take energy from the city as it starts for the day.

Then I hit the road, hoping the drivers I’m sharing it with are not looking down at their phones, or off their faces, or blindingly ignorant of the current road rules. There are very few of us up at that time of the morning. It’s quiet and contemplative.

I do social rides, too, and although I began riding with mixed groups, I now ride mostly with other women. Facebook groups like GirlrideMel! and Sheride have helped a community of women cyclists emerge.

It’s not that I don’t love riding with men, I do, it’s just that the women I ride with are 90 per cent awesome; the men, maybe 20 per cent. They’re seriously good, the women I ride with. They just don’t need to prove it by being obnoxious, or by excluding those who might not know as much as they do.

At intersections, while waiting at a red light, I’ve noticed male cyclists ride straight past me, and stop in front of me, to be first off when the light changes. I catch them quickly and wonder, as they slow, why they bothered.

A friend rides 300 kilometres-plus a week, is the ultimate funky female road cyclist (definitely nothing Mawil about her), and still finds men in Lycra sneaking past her at the lights. Dudes, don’t assume you’re better or faster than us, please. Encourage us. Include us.

I want more women to experience the thrill of heading out for #localloops and knocking off 40 kilometres before the school run. I lent my first carbon road bike to a friend, and after one ride she signed up for the High Country Women’s Cycling Festival in March 2019 – a supported ride for women up Mt Buffalo. Women: it’s that good. Men: encourage us.

Jayne D'Arcy is an Age contributor.

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